i walked by and you caught my eye
by Canadino
Summary: If we met on my birthday, that would be the greatest gift of all. Slight Bubblegum/Marceline


**Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the story idea and only some of the witty remarks. I own so little; so please don't steal.**

Background music: -

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The thing about getting turned into a vampire is time goes by suddenly much faster than it did before. After her "father" sank his teeth into her neck one night after the Mushroom War and she wasn't careful, suddenly she would blink and days would have gone past. Suddenly the survivors with her would all pass away and she would remain, young and unblemished (albeit blue). It scared her, and so she followed her Father when he went on his rampages and soul-collecting until she realized it wasn't cool and hardly her style so she left him (and he ate her fries anyway, _that_ wasn't okay) and decided to pave a way on her own.

Another thing Marceline discovered was that the sun was now her enemy. It burned and made her skin crackle and crisp. So she hid away in a lonely cave because it was cool in the afternoons and she could fly with the bats at night (flying itself was a lovely discovery, although it made her sad she did not have this ability during the War). Umbrellas and hats were her friends but she spent most of her hours by herself and the utter _boredom_ of it all was about to _kill_ her when she converted an old battle-ax into a guitar and taught herself how to play. Music made things better.

As she learned through trial and error the various chords and rhythms, centuries passed and one year her father sent her a brief note she discarded soon after with the words _so you're 999 years old now!_ Ago, she would consider herself old but this was a ripe young age for vampires. Still, she did not tell Ash of this momentous date, as he would probably not even care ("Okay, make a cake along with that sandwich."). She had since moved into a quaint little house and sometimes forgot she drank the color red until she became hungry and then – well, she would go on the hunt.

On one such night, she brought along her axe-bass because she couldn't decide if she was in a singing mood or a slashing mood and that was great for both. If asked, she couldn't tell what day it was or the phase of the moon but her destination of Candy Kingdom was obvious with its numerous shades of candy can red and cotton candy pink. After stripping a confused gumdrop citizen of his bright red jacket, she was satiated but not ready to return home. The pastel shades turned her stomach, as did the occasional risk of popping the pink bubbles floating around, but she hovered over the city with abandon.

Upon later retrospection, sitting on a balcony of a sweet little castle was not the best idea but at the time, Marceline only wanted to fill a bit of the sugary air with some of her sick beats. She was pretty good with her guitar if she could say so herself. She was switching chords when a shadow fell upon her from the door. She was not afraid, because she could flee from any guard, but her discoverer was not armed and happened to be a demure young lady with long, pink, bubblegum hair.

"If you can give me a good reason, I might not have the guards throw you out immediately," the young lady said.

"Well, I don't have a _good_ reason why you shouldn't throw me out, but I have a better one." Slinging her bass back on her back, she flew over and grabbed the girl in shades of pink and in one smooth motion dangled her over the edge of the balcony. "If you tell, I'll definitely drop you." The frantic blubbering and pleading Marceline expected did not come; instead, the girl gave her an exasperated expression in the air.

"You wouldn't drop me even if I screamed," she sniffed. "If your intention was to harm me or the Candy Kingdom, you probably would have done so; I came unarmed and unprepared and you have an ax over your shoulder. Additionally, should I have screamed and you dropped me, guards would appear in a moment and my friend Lady Rainicorn would have come to my aid."

Marceline considered her for a moment, still hovering over the balcony railing. "I guess you're right."

"Of course I'm right. A princess has to have the sufficient knowledge to rule a kingdom."

"You're a princess?" Marceline smirked, pulling the girl back onto the balcony. Though she should have known – crown and royal demeanor aside, this chick _was_ living in a palace. "I'm a queen. I'm the vampire queen."

"Oh?" The princess did not look sarcastic or disbelieving, but truly diplomatic. "I look forward to working with you on many worldly affairs."

"I don't deal with this world," Marceline laughed, floating above and around the princess. "I deal in the shadows and the dead and bad, bad things that would make your hair curl. Are you sure you still want to talk to me?" She turned into a bat and back, but the princess did not look fazed – if anything, she looked excited.

"I've never worked with a vampire before," she gushed, her fingers wiggling in the air as if wishing to grasp for a pen and paper to take notes on. "This will be a very educational experience. May I ask for your name?"

"The name's Marceline, baby." She floated up behind the princess and prodded her bubblegum hair. "What's yours?"

"Bubblegum. You may address me as Princess Bubblegum."

"That can't be your first name."

"A princess does not give out her first name like mints," Princess Bubblegum recited. Marceline waited for an exception, but it seemed the princess was not going to give her one. "I have many questions for you. Do you drink blood like the folklore says you do? How do you fare under the sun? Are there others like you? How did you come to be?

"I'm not a test subject," Marceline said testily, her hair beginning to curl in anger. "Don't treat me like one." She was beginning to transform, and Bubblegum looked genuinely apologetic. Taking a deep breath to keep her human appearance, Marceline offered, "And you didn't even tell me your name; why should I tell you anything about me?"

Bubblegum looked at her for a moment in brief confusion before shrugging. "Fair's fair, I guess."

Later, when she returned home, Ash was waiting on the couch watching television and complaining about a sudden craving for pot roast. "Hey, Mar-Mar," he greeted, barely looking over at her coming in from the door; when she stood in front of his line of vision, he made a face and glanced up at her. "What are you grinning about? And why do you smell like candy?"

"None of your business," she said, beating down the urge to smile wider, and went to the kitchen to slaughter his roast.


End file.
